


Now That We're Friends

by LieutenantSaavik



Category: Wicked - Schwartz/Holzman
Genre: Banter, Canon-Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Musical-verse, Witty Banter, at least i think i'm witty, book influence, elphaba is bi af, galinda is a lesbian but doesn't know it yet, no canon deviation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 18:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14816154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LieutenantSaavik/pseuds/LieutenantSaavik
Summary: For the past few months of their time at Shiz, she and Elphaba had been like parallel lines, in punishing proximity but on trajectories that would never touch. Now… Galinda didn’t know enough math to decide what they were now. They were one dance, one conversation, one nickname, and one makeover. They were friends. Sort of.Set after the song Popular (just after Elphaba runs away), the same night of the Ozdust Ballroom party.





	Now That We're Friends

“Galinda,” says Elphaba, and her voice is low, as dark and smothered as the shadow she stands in, “Thanks for the… makeover. And the hat.” Galinda can sense the undercurrent of apology hovering inside the words;  _ I’m sorry for running away. _

“Of course,” Galinda replies as cheerily as she can muster, kicking her legs against the side of her bed. “It suits you.”  _ I never thought it could suit anyone.  _

There is a silence. For the past few months of their time at Shiz, she and Elphaba had been like parallel lines, in punishing proximity but on trajectories that would never touch.  _ Now… _ Galinda didn’t know enough math to decide what they were now. They were one dance, one conversation, one nickname, and one makeover. They were friends. Sort of.

“Nobody had ever danced with me before,” Elphaba offers with a pathetic attempt at a laugh. “I guess that won’t surprise you.”

“It doesn’t,” Galinda says slowly. And then, faster, “I’d never danced with--a girl before. I’m glad it was you.”

“I’m glad you’re glad.”

Galinda tilts her head, displacing a pile of sweated-out curls. “Um, would you come out of that shadow, maybe? It’s weird to talk to something--someone--you can’t see.”

Elphaba hesitates a moment, then steps forward into the light, now clad in a billowy nightgown. Her make-up free skin is still wet from the shower, the flower gone from her hair. Disappointed, Galinda takes a close look at her, examining her form, not just her verdant color. Both Elphaba’s hands are fisted;  _ Does she always do that? _

“I’d imagine it’s weird to talk to a green girl, too.”

“I haven’t made a habit of it in the past,” Galinda says lightly.

“Yes,” Elphaba returns dryly, thin lips smirking, “I noticed.”

Galinda ducks her chin. “Sorry.” She sneaks another glance up, still observing.  _ She’s frightfully bony _ , she realises.  _ Does she eat? _

“Don’t be sorry. I haven’t exactly been friendly.”

“Yes,” Galinda tries hard to mimic the smirk, but gives up when she feels the remnants of her lipstick smudge, “I noticed.”

Elphaba sighs and crosses to her bed. “Why do you do that?”

Galinda draws back with a flounce, following her with her eyes. “Do  _ what _ ?”

Elphaba flicks one hand vaguely into the air. “The tulle skirt, the affectation, the--the  _ bouncing _ . It’s off-putting.”

“The rest of Shiz doesn’t--” Galinda forces her voice down an octave, “Think it’s ‘off-putting.’”

“No,” Elphaba concedes easily, plucking her hat from behind her pillow and depositing it on her bare nightstand. “They love it.”

“Why don’t you?”

She looks up sharply, eyes piercing in the half-light. “I guess I prefer the cake to the frosting.”

Galinda forces a nervous laugh. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Elphaba holds her stare for a long while, then abruptly breaks into a smile. “You know what? I don’t either.” She clambers onto her bed, adjusts herself on the squeaky springs, and peers across at Galinda. “Aren’t you going to, I don’t know… take a shower or something?”

Galinda kicks her legs over to face Elphaba and smacks a hand onto her hip. “If you are insinuating that I smell like  _ anything _ other than my perfume--”

“I’m not,” Elphaba says quickly, hiding her laugh with her hand, “I’m just--”

“Because it’s poppies, Elphie,  _ poppies _ , and I’ll have you know it smells  _ wonderful _ \--”

“No, no, I just--” She sobers. “We’ve never had a conversation--and this is two conversations--and, to be entirely frank, I expected you to have left by now.”

“Oh,” says Galinda.  _ Oh. _ She tucks her legs up to her chest. “Well, technically you’re the one who left first. Ran away, I might add! And,” she notes critically, “I see you’ve lost the flower I gave you.”

“I haven’t lost it.” Elphaba unfists a hand and a familiar spray of pink petals surfaces. 

“Well,” Galinda says, searching for something, “It’s got wrinkles now.”

Elphaba sighs, dropping the flower beside the hat. “You don’t have to sound so whiny all the time.”

“I do not sound whiny!”

“I do  _ not _ sound  _ whiny _ !” Elphaba mimics. “I do  _ not _ sound  _ whiny _ , Elphaba! You big, green, mean, old  _ witch _ !”

“Elphaba!”

“What?  _ Please _ tell me I’m not the first person ever to make fun of you.”

Hurt, Galinda sticks out her tongue. “Pfbt! Of course you are!”

“Really?”

“You’re the only person here who thinks teasing is funny!”

To Galinda’s surprise, Elphaba’s face goes slack, eyes darkening like a door’s been slammed. She turns away and faces the wall, silent. A stark green hand claws its way into the comforter, tendons raised.

“Elphaba?”

A full minute goes by.

“Elphaba!”

The green hand shifts without relaxing. “Am I really,” its owner hisses through clenched teeth. “Am I really the only person here who thinks teasing is funny?”

_ Sweet Oz! _ Galinda bows her head and bites her lip.

“Well?” the word is spat.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s great.”

“No, Elphaba, I really am sorry--”

“You’re not sorry for what you’ve said--you’re just sorry that I got angry. You’ve never had to live a day as anything less than everyone’s idol.”

_ No!  _ “That’s not my fault!” she wails, standing. “Elphaba, it’s not my fault!”

Elphaba hunches herself still more vigorously away.

She comes closer. “Elphaba, please talk to me!”

“Go away. Your perfume reeks. I can smell it from--” she stops. Galinda’s hand is resting on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice a muted breath.

“You do know that it’s not a cause-and-effect thing, right?”

“What?”

“You apologise, you get forgiveness? It’s not rote like that.”

_ I know.  _ “Elphie--”

“Why do you pretend to be abysmally stupid,” Elphaba asks flatly.

“I don’t pretend!”

“Yes, you do.” Elphaba slaps Galinda’s hand away. “It’s ridiculous.  _ You’re _ ridiculous. You pretend to be unable to grasp even the simplest of intellectual challenges, then turn around and use words like ‘fervid’ that you can only learn from literature.”

“What?”

“It’s fine. It’s your choice to decide if you want to live life like an idiot. Who am I to judge you?”

“You have as much right as anyone else.”

“More.”

The confidence in the word is surprising. “More? Why?”

The next words come as though they’re obvious. “Because we’re roommates.”

Galinda swallows a situationally inappropriate laugh. “Please tell me if you’re smiling. I can only see the back of your head. I know your voice sounds like it’s smiling, but--”

“I’m not smiling.”

“Oh.”

Elphaba sighs again. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“And  _ I’m _ sorry for--what I did that upset you. Whatever it was that I did.”

“Having a hard time remembering it?”

“Yes,” Galinda confesses meekly. “A little.”

“It’s alright.”

“Thanks. I am sorry.”

There’s a new silence; this one’s less uncanny, less strange.

“We should go to bed soon,” Elphaba finally says, half-heartedly. “Like you said. It’s tomorrow.”

“Are you kidding?” Galinda half-squeals. “Now that we’re friends, we need to--” she pushes her hands into the air in front of her. “Gossip all night! Paint each other’s nails! We--”

“Wow,” Elphaba deadpans.

“What?”

“So this is what friendship is?”

Galinda drops her arms. “Are you disappointed?” she asks in a small voice.

“No,” Elphaba says, “Not really. Just a bit surprised.”

“In a good way?”

“Guess we’ll have to wait and see.” She turns her head to give Galinda a wry look. “May I ask a question?”

Galinda’s hand drifts behind her ear. “If it’s about whether my blonde is natural--”

“You know it won’t be about any of that.”

“Well,” she pouts a little, “That’s what everyone else asks about.”  _ It’s absolutely natural, thank you very much. _

“You really need to find some better friends.”

“Elphie, how could you!” She takes hold of Elphaba’s shoulders and pushes herself off of them, spinning on a heel and throwing her arms out grandly. “I just did!”

Elphaba raises a thin, aquiline eyebrow. “May I ask,” she says succinctly, “The question?”

“Of course!”

“Right before I came back, were you singing to yourself in the mirror?”

“What?”  _ Excuse me? _

“Don’t be coy.”

“Elphie, you know I can’t  _ not _ be coy!”

“Were you?”

“Do you,” Galinda moans, pulling her mouth down at the corners, “Really think so little of me as to think I’d serenade  _ myself _ ? As if I don’t have people lining up to do it?”

Elphaba snorts. “You haven’t shown interest in any of them except Fiyero.”

“Oh, Fiyero’s different! He’s new.”

“You’ll get tired of him,” Elphaba says dismissively, “Because you love him like a doll. But that’s not my point. My point is--”

“Elphie, Fiyero and I are to be married!”

“Do you genuinely--never mind.” She smiles up at Galinda to show she’s genuine. “Sorry I said it. But Galinda, were you singing to yourself?”

_ There’s nothing wrong with a little self-love. _ She rolls a shoulder backward, presses a hand to the top of her chest. “Maybe I was.”

“You have a nice voice.”

“What?”  _ Really? _

“Did you think I was going to tease you about it?”

“Well, yes.”

“Make no mistake; I absolutely will. But tonight,” Elphaba surrenders to a yawn, “I’m too tired.”

_ Aww. _ “Thank you.”

“Seriously, though, Galinda. You should go shower. Your perfume is wearing off.”

_ Rude.  _ It’s Galinda’s turn to roll her eyes. “Thanks, love you too.”

Elphaba raises an eyebrow at the sarcasm, head listing to one side sleepily. “Does Fiyero have competition?”

“You wish.” Galinda kisses the tips of her fingers and plops them atop Elphaba’s head, righting it. “I’ll be right back.”

“See you in the morning,” Elphaba murmurs, closing her eyes and falling onto her pillow. “I’ll be asleep in three seconds.”

“It  _ is _ morning, silly. Elphaba?”

No reply but a light snore.

“You really meant three seconds, huh,” Galinda grumps. She stares at her new friend a long moment, watching the dark of the room pool in the hollows of her face. “Good night, then.” 

_ Why do you pretend to be abysmally stupid?  _ Elphaba had asked.

_ It’s easier. _

**Author's Note:**

> just watched a wicked bootleg today and absolutely sobbed. i've loved this musical since i was eleven but have never been able to see it
> 
> i'd deeply appreciate comments on this! shoutout to my tireless beta, user daisyridley.


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